


Soft Place To Land

by DuchessKitty16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bisexual Liam, Boys Kissing, But mostly Harry POV, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Doctor Louis, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Smut, Non binary Niall, Other, Playlist, Writer Harry, story told from both Louis and Harry POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessKitty16/pseuds/DuchessKitty16
Summary: Harry is emotionally recovering from a death of a loved one and a break up with his boyfriend. He's only recently moved to Manchester and is in need of new friends and someone to make him smile again. He meets his next door neighbors - 3 handsome guys who work at the hospital up the street and who Harry immediately wants to get to know; especially the compact curvy one with the gorgeous blue eyes.One night when he's baking Christmas treats Harry burns his hand and goes next door to get help. Louis takes care of the burn on his hand and maybe also helps heal Harry's broken heart.
Title from the song of the same name by Sara Bareilles.The Spotify playlist can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/user/1256133734/playlist/2WjlqV1jqlXWGFhJ8PXPeU





	1. CHAPTER ONE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jupiter_lou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter_lou/gifts).



> This was the prompt from hazeyxskies that I was asked to pinch hit for:  
> Harry is baking Christmas cookies to bring himself some well-deserved Christmas cheer. When he burns himself pretty badly taking cookies out of the oven, he decides to knock on his med student neighbor's door for medical assistance.
> 
> This was my first time pinchhitting for an exchange and I really enjoyed doing it. It was really important to me that hazeyxskies got their fic; I hope they like what I did with their prompt! It was so much fun writing this. Sorry there's no smut! As much as I love to read it, you'd think I'd be better at writing smutty scenes, but I'm not, so I didn't.
> 
> NOTE: I started this weeks before we learned of Jay Deakin's death or her illness. Although Jay isn't in this fic, another important mother figure's death is mentioned and discussed although it happens in a timeline before this story begins. I almost stopped writing this because I wasn't sure if this fictional death would be a trigger for anyone, but I kept with the story because I wanted to see it through.
> 
> This story has a Spotify playlist! I will post it once the authors are revealed for the exchange.
> 
> I really hope everyone, bit especially hazeyxskies enjoys this short story. xoxo

[Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1256133734/playlist/2WjlqV1jqlXWGFhJ8PXPeU)

CHAPTER ONE -

Louis staggered into the on-call room and found it blessedly empty save for one doctor, blond female, curled up in a tight ball in one of the upper bunks and facing the wall. He thought it might be another resident, his friend Perrie Edwards, but he didn’t want to check and wake her up.

Senior Hospital Officers and Permanent Surgery Consultants tended to hog all of the beds in the on-call room so it was important for Core Training Specialists and Specialty Training Consultants like Louis and Perrie to sleep whenever and for however long they could before they had to return to their shift or got kicked out of a bed by an Senior Officer that needed sleep before an important surgery.

Louis tried not to disturb Perrie as he fell across a bottom bunk on the other side of the room and lay his head back onto the pillow. It was freezing in the room and the bed he’d chosen didn’t have a blanket on it for some reason, so he struggled to sit up enough so that he could lift his arm out and up to pull down the blanket from the bunk above. A pillow came tumbling down with the blanket, but Louis couldn’t be arsed to care, he was so exhausted, and let the pillow fall to the floor. He wrapped the blanket snugly around himself, pulling it up to his chin, and turned on his side towards the wall to try and catch a few hours of sleep before he had to go back on Dr. Anderson’s service.

God! He hated that man. Anderson was the worse type of doctor; so arrogant and full of himself that it was amazing he could walk down the halls of the hospital without his inflated ego brushing up against the walls of the hallways. Anderson was the Senior Hospitalist in Emergency which is where Louis was doing his rotation this month for the last part of his CT2. He really hated the E.D. – traumas constantly coming in; the kinetic energy and constant adrenaline surges were always doubly exhausting as any other department.

Louis couldn’t wait to be done with his Emergency Department rotation so that he could move on to something he knew he’d like better. Next month he’d start his Peds rotation and he couldn’t wait. Louis had mostly decided that he wanted to be a Pediatrician; it was between that or Burns/Plastics as his specialty of choice. Ideally he’d like to find a position in a hospital that would allow him to do both.

That was one of the main reasons he’d chosen to stay at the University of South Manchester hospital system; they had one of the best pediatric burn units in the UK. But for now, he just had to make it through Christmas with the tyrannical Anderson, working these horrible 48 hours on/36 hours off shifts.

Louis pulled his phone from the pocket of his scrub top and quickly set an alarm for 2 hours later. He was surprised to see that the date was already December 14, just a little more than a week away from his birthday. He couldn’t believe it was already the middle of December. Where had the days gone?

Growing up Louis had hated having his birthday on Christmas Eve for all of the obvious childish reasons – you really only got one set of presents spread out over two days, unlike his siblings who always seemed to get a lot of stuff on their birthdays AND Christmas; school was always out for his birthday and most of his friends were occupied with family time and trips so they could never come to his birthday party. But as Louis had grown older he had begun to relish his birthday being the day before Christmas. It was such a magical time of year with tons of decorations and lights strung up everywhere, so that it felt like the whole city, hell the whole country was lit up just for him. And his mum had started throwing a party for him in late March to celebrate his “conceived day” so that he had a chance for a proper party that was separate from Christmas.

Thinking about this just reminded Louis of his talk with Dr. Anderson that morning when he’d asked again if he was going to be able to take a few days off around Christmas to see his family and that Anderson had basically refused saying that he’d “see what he could do”. Not likely. That meant no and Louis would be spending another Christmas in this damn hospital. He turned on his other side in a frustrated huff and punched the pillow into shape before pulling the blanket over his head and forcing himself to fall asleep.

 

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_“Sugar. Sugar, Butter, and Flour._

_Sometimes I still see her. My mother, the dreamer. She’d say nothing’s impossible, child._

_A dream needs believing, to taste like the real thing. Like some stranger you recognize._

_So pure, so electric. So sure, so connected. To those little believers inside._

_May we all be so lucky._

_But dreams are elusive. The kind that we’ve gotten used to is nothing I can feel; nothing I can hold; nothing I can have; nothing that I know._

_Dreams come and they go._

_But hold them and keep them. And know that you need them, when your breaking point is all that you have._

_A dream is a soft place to land…” - Soft Place To Land_ by Sara Bareilles

 

Harry couldn’t sleep. Again. Still. It’s a bad pattern that’s been plaguing him for the past few months. His lack of sleep was something that was happening even before he moved into this apartment three months ago, so it’s not like he can blame the new space or neighborhood. If anything, his new apartment has felt like a solace, a safe space for him and his dark moods. And sleepless nights.

For one thing, his old place didn’t have a balcony and this new place does; where he is sitting at this very moment on this sleepless night. It’s a very nice balcony that’s large enough for a table and two chairs and his flower and herb pots, which of course are just sitting with dead earth in them because it’s winter. But Harry can’t wait for the spring and summer; he already has been making plans for this balcony’s use for the upcoming seasons.

He pats himself on the back that at least he’s planning something for the future; at least he’s excited about something that will be happening in the coming months. There hasn’t been much to be happy or excited about lately. Harry shakes off these depressing thoughts and wraps his mittened hands around his hot mug of chamomile tea and takes a sip. He’s not sure why he insists nightly on sitting out on this balcony when he can’t sleep; especially now that it’s December and the weather has turned so cold. But still, each night he finds himself wandering out here, wrapped in more and more layers and now two throw blankets and his muk-luk slippers to sip hot herbal tea and look out at the city of Manchester and the stars.

Harry hears him before he sees him this time. He hears a lovely raspy tenor voice floating up to him from the sidewalk below, singing what sounds like “Chain of Fools” by Aretha Franklin. Harry almost wants to giggle at the incredulousness of the song choice, but he doesn’t want to call attention to himself. He likes to look at this man freely and unabashedly.

Harry inches closer to the railing and looks down to the street seeing the handsome young man as he walks closer to the entrance of their building. The man is one of Harry’s neighbors, is in fact one of the three guys that lives right next door to him in apartment 4D. All three of them are good looking but this one, the compact one with the lean muscles and the curvy hips and tiny waist, the one with the gorgeous light brown hair and bright blue eyes, he’s the one that Harry thinks the most about. He’s the one that Harry has built an entire story and background for even though he’s never met or spoken to him more than a nod in the hallway as they pass.

Harry’s not sure if the blue-eyed beauty is Tomlinson, Payne or Horan, as their mailbox and entrance buzzer placards read, but he is sure that all three of them work at the hospital that’s just about a mile away. They all wear some form of scrubs to and from the apartment and they often keep odd hours, especially Harry’s favorite, the one just coming home now after midnight.

Harry decides right then that he’s going to get the courage to speak to the blue-eyed boy the next time he sees him, no matter how awkward or shy he feels. He’s dying to know about his life, his hopes, his dreams. Whether or not he’s into guys and is possibly single? But really, Harry is in need of new friends.

He went through a horrible break-up and somehow came out of it with a lot of people he thought he was close to, deciding to stick with his ex. He gets it; when a couple breaks up the friends often do too. Sides are chosen, and most of his friends knew Aiden first, so he didn’t blame them for sticking by him. But it sucked, and now he was desperate for people to talk to and maybe help bring him out of his depression and funk.

Introducing himself to the guys next door would be at least be a good start. Maybe he’d make lasagna and take it over to them as a “meet your new neighbor and become best friends with them” gift. Thinking about this made Harry smile, that then turned into a yawn. Harry happily stood up and stretched, gathering his blanket and his tea to return inside and go back to bed.

 

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The next day Harry feels lighter and more motivated than he has in weeks, maybe months. He’s not sure if it was the actual quality five hours of sleep that he got, or if just having a solid plan for the day (as silly as it is) has just put him in a better mood.

Whatever the catalyst, he’s showered and dressed by 8AM, bakes a simple batch of vanilla scones before walking to the grocery to get ingredients for lasagna, and on an impulse after buying his groceries, he even stops by the parking lot of the Anglican church on the corner and buys a small Christmas tree and stand from an elderly woman with kind eyes and a kinder smile.

He drags the little Charlie Brown-esque tree home and sets it up in front of his living room windows. Even without lights or ornaments it brings a festive air to the apartment and the smell of pine is heavenly. Harry even manages to finish a few of the writing assignments he’d been assigned earlier in the month; one an online essay on the beauty of Beaune in March for the British Airways inflight magazine, and articles for Conde Nast Traveler about the Midnight Sun festival in Helsinki and the brilliance of packing cubes.

 

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By the afternoon he was busy making the béchamel sauce for the lasagna that he was making to take next door as a “Hi, I’m your neighbor please be friends with me” gift. He really hoped that the three guys like mushrooms and spinach. And oh! what if they’re vegetarian?! Harry panicked and ended up making a second, smaller lasagna sans the pork and beef of the first one.

By the time 6pm rolls around Harry has taken a second shower, after getting béchamel in his hair somehow and because he’d sweated through the long-sleeved tee shirt he’d been wearing. He couldn’t or didn’t want to dissect why he was so nervous about this whole thing. After the second shower he ended up changing clothes three times like he was going on a date instead of simply introducing himself to his next door neighbors. He needed to calm down! But on the other hand, the fact that he was actually looking forward to doing something, to making human contact at all was such a huge step that Harry felt a smile on his face, and that hadn’t happened in so long that he couldn’t even remember.

Harry took the two rectangular glass baking dishes that had come out of the oven a few minutes before and covered them with foil and then clean tea towels to keep warm. He made the executive decision to bite the bullet and just go next door instead of waiting around to see if he could hear one of the guys coming down the hall, an indication that at least one person was home from work. Before he let himself get worried over the fact that no one could be home for hours and dinner would be a lost cause, Harry reminded himself that lasagna freezes beautifully and could be saved by the guys for dinner at another time. With this issue settled, he slipped on one of his old pairs of clogs and headed next door, carefully opening and shutting his door while holding the two glass dishes.

Once he got in front of their door Harry thought he could faintly hear a television which gave him hope that someone was indeed home. Emboldened by this, he moved the smaller glass dish to balance on his left forearm next to the other and pushed the doorbell with his potholder covered finger. Harry heard what could be a scrape of a chair and then a voice, muffled but he could clearly make out what they were saying. He heard the voice say, “Niall? Did you order food or something?”. Harry couldn’t hear the reply from the other person, but he didn’t have time to think of much else before the door opened, revealing a handsome man about his age and height with a neat, close cut beard and lovely brown eyes and hair styled up in a quiff. The man wasn’t Harry’s late-night fantasy boy, but he was smiling at him and seemed very nice, if a little confused.

  

 

 

“Well, hello. What can I do for you?” The man continued to smile and looked down at the items in Harry’s arms.

 

“Uh, hiiiii. I’m uh, I’m Harry. Harry Styles. I live here. I mean I live in the building. Uh, I mean I live next door? Um…anyway, I only moved here a bit ago and I still don’t know many people. Uh, so I made lasagna? I mean, I wanted to introduce myself to my neighbors, so I made you some lasagna, as a sort of welcome to the building present, except I’m the one who’s new to the place and just looking to meet my neighbors.” Harry babbled and stuttered that out in a rush, feeling a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

 

“You made us lasagna?” The man asked in disbelief before turning back into the apartment. “Hey Niall, come here! Our lovely neighbor from next door made us dinner.”

A skinny guy with dyed blond hair came racing around the corner, skidding on the hardwood floors of the apartment in his socked feet. Harry was disappointed that this Niall wasn’t his dreamboat guy either, but he greeted Niall’s big open smile with one of his own.

 

“Can I put these pans down somewhere? They’re starting to get heavy and they’re still very hot.” Harry asked with a slight grimace.

 

“Oh my god! Of course! Come in please. Come this way to the kitchen. I’m Liam Payne by the way. This is so sweet of you. What a nice gesture!”

Liam led the way into their kitchen which was technically bigger than Harry’s but laid out in a less efficient way so it seemed smaller. It was also messier than his kitchen. There were empty cereal bowls and tea cups in the sink. It was clear that 3 bachelors (?) lived there. Harry could see that the apartment had a very similar lay out to his, kitchen just the left that opened to a small dining area and then a living room to the right, but everything was on a larger scale, he supposed because it was a 2 bedroom. 

Harry placed the two glass dishes carefully on the counter with the towels still underneath them to protect the granite surface. Niall got down a few plates and Liam got out silverware that he set in places on their dining room table. Harry realized that they had set a third place.

 

“Oh is your other roommate here too? I definitely made enough lasagna for all of you.” Harry ventured, hopeful that his dream man was perhaps in the shower, or just on his way home.

 

“No. Louis won’t be home until much later; in fact he just left for work. But I’ll try to save him some.” Niall said this around a mouthful of lasagna that he’d already spooned onto his plate. “Oh my gosh, what was your name again? Whoever you are mate, you’re my new best friend because this lasagna is delicious! The best I’ve ever had.” Niall enthused.

Harry hadn’t heard much after he finally learned his dream guy’s real name – Louis. It was so melodic; so beautiful. Just like the person it belonged to. He snapped out of his reverie when Niall continued praising his food.

 

“Thank you for the compliments. Lasagna is something that I’ve been making for years. I guess I’ve gotten pretty good at it. The smaller dish is vegetarian because I wasn’t sure what you guys did or didn’t eat.”

 

“Thanks Harry, that’s very thoughtful. As Niall said, our roommate Louis is at work, but I know he’ll love this when he gets home late tonight or tomorrow. The third place setting is for you, I hope you’ll join us? You did make a lot of food.” Liam filled his plate and sat down indicating the third plate.

 

“Oh that’s okay. I already ate actually. I ended up making so much sauce and meatballs that I had that over spaghetti for my tea. What I brought over is just for you.” Harry saw the disappointment in Liam and Niall’s eyes and decided that he should stay; he was there to make friends after all. “But hey, I wouldn’t mind staying and hanging out while you guys eat, if that’s cool. Maybe have a cup of tea if you have any?”

 

“Yes, that’s a great idea. It’ll be nice to chat and get to know you. I’ll put the kettle on now.” Liam stood and filled and plugged in the electric kettle. He opened a small cupboard to his right. “We don’t have a wide variety of tea. Mostly Yorkshire Gold or Irish Breakfast.”

 

“Yorkshire is fine for me, thank you.”

As Liam got the tea ready, Niall spoke to Harry around a mouthful of food. “Are you a professional cook? This is seriously the best meal I’ve had in ages!”

 

Harry felt a blush of pride creep up his cheeks as he smiled. “Thank you. I’m not a cook, I’m a writer actually. Although I did used to work at a bakery all through uni. That’s my real cooking passion – baking. It’s a hobby of mine. I’ll have to bake you some biscuits some time.”

 

Niall looked at Harry with love in his eyes. “That would be amazing, mate! Did you hear that Liam? Harry wants to bake us biscuits.”

 

“I heard him Niall. I’m standing right here.” Liam sounded exasperated but looked fondly at Niall. He set done a large mug of tea in front of Harry along with a little pitcher of milk and a ramekin filled with sugar with a small spoon resting in it.

Harry spooned a couple of teaspoons of sugar into the hot tea and added a splash of milk. He picked up the mug after stirring the sugar for several seconds. He blew on the tea before taking a small sip.

 

“Do you write novels, Harry? Anything I would’ve read?” Liam asked as he sat back down and resumed eating.

 

“Have you been on any British Airway, Quantas, or American Airline flights lately? Bought a ridiculously overpriced issue of Conde Nast Traveler magazine? Or have you recently purchased any travel guide books for New Zealand?” Harry gave both men a self-depreciating smirk as they both looked at him with perplexed looks on their faces and shook their heads no.

 

“I mostly write for travel publications. I have a contract with Fodor’s and that pays pretty well and actually allows me to travel for free to a lot of great places, but I mostly just write articles for those in-flight magazines on airplanes that no one ever bothers to read.”

 

“Hey! I read those in-flight mags. I love doing the crosswords in ‘em.” Niall chortled in his Irish accent.

 

“Well I don’t create the crosswords, just the boring bits that make up the rest of the magazine besides the advertisements. My latest article is about the Midnight Sun festival in Helsinki.”

 

“Midnight Sun festival? Isn’t that in June?” Liam asked incredulously.

 

“Yes, you’re right, it is. It’s during the Summer Solstice, but a lot of the magazines like to have pieces banked months in advance that they can use to fill in as they create their upcoming issues. So expect to see it in Conde Nast magazine come May.

He found himself very content to just sit companionably with Liam and Niall, not talking as they ate, but he figured that he should find out as much as he could about them before he finished his tea.

“I noticed the other morning when I saw you two leaving the building from my window, that you were both wearing scrubs. Do you work at the nearby hospital?”

 

“Yep. We work at Wythenshawe just up the street a bit.” Niall confirmed.

 

“Are you doctors?” Harry asked in what he hoped was an innocent way and not like someone who had clearly been stalking his neighbors.

 

“Li and our roommate Louis are; I’m just a lowly RN.” Niall said depreciatively but with a smile on his face. He cut into a large piece of lasagna and put a big bite in his mouth.

 

“Aw babe, don’t say it like that. Nurses do the most important work in the hospital. They know way more about how the hospital runs than the doctors do.”

 

“You have to say nice things like that because you love me.” Niall smiled wide before winking at Liam.

Harry wondered if the two were a couple. They could just as well be close friends, but Harry was beginning to pick up on a vibe between Liam and Niall, and he realized suddenly that he was fairly sure that this apartment building didn’t have any apartments larger than a two-bedroom. Obviously it didn’t matter to Harry, but he selfishly wondered if that increased or decreased the chances of Louis the mystery man being gay. And more importantly, single.

 

“Liam, are you a surgeon? I’ve always thought that would be a terrifying job to have. All that blood and innards.” Harry made a face that made Liam chuckle.

 

“No no. I’m a research resident in my last year of Core Specialty Training in pathology actually. I work in a smaller, separate building from the main hospital. I’m just in a lab all day. The only ‘innards’ I see are the blood samples and patient’s cells under a microscope. Although I do occasionally have to help with autopsies which can be fairly brutal.” Liam was so genial and matter-of-fact explaining this that Harry couldn’t help but return the smile he was given. Liam seemed very nice.

 

“I on the other hand am an AE Emergency Department nurse, so I’m in the thick of it all the time. The things I’ve seen would curl your hair, Harry.” Niall looked up from his plate to Harry and his long curls. “Or more curly than it already is.” He chuckled.

 

“One of my favorite games to play with Niall after a long, busy week is ‘Guess the Disgusting Thing Someone Stuck Up Themselves This Week’. People are truly the grossest things.” Liam laughed at himself and stood up, taking his empty plate with him to the sink to rinse and place in their dishwasher.

 

“This week has been disappointingly slow. Although there was a lady on Sunday who had a rash on her ladybits that probably came from an allergy to her dog’s saliva.” Niall snickered which turned into a full-on guffaw after he saw both Harry and Liam’s horrified faces.

 

“Oh! Oh no. I…that’s just. Oh god.” Harry felt like he might be sick. He took another sip of his cooling tea.

 

“Niall please. We just met Harry. He seems like a lovely person and I would like to stay friends with him. Please stop telling your disgusting stories from the ER. Thank you.” Liam turned to Harry and smiled a small embarrassed smile.

 

Harry was just excited to hear Liam say that he already considered them friends. He mentally patted himself on the back for making dinner for them. Harry decided to bite the bullet and casually ask about Louis.

 

“Does your roommate, I think you said his name was Louis? Does he also work at the hospital?” Good one Haz, real smooth.

 

“Ah yeah. He’s in his last year of Core Training at Wythenshawe. He works shit hours because of this. Mostly evenings. But I think he thinks it’s worth it. He will probably get a great Specialty internship somewhere next year. He wants to be a pediatrician.”

A doctor. Louis was a doctor. He didn’t think that his mystery man could’ve gotten any sexier in his head but now knowing that he wanted to help sick kids? Harry might be a little in love and he’d never even met the man.

Harry stayed through another cup of tea, then at Niall’s huge yawn stood up and said good evening.

“Harry thanks so much for dinner. Y’ saved us from another night of pizza or Chinese take-away. Anytime you want to cook for us, or even just me, please feel free to.” Niall clapped Harry on the back as he walked him to the door.

 

“Niall, don’t pester him! Harry, thank you so much for stopping by. Not only was dinner delicious, it was great to finally meet and get to know you. Let’s get together again soon. But next time we’ll take you out for dinner or something.” Liam shook Harry’s hand at the door. Harry was just starting to close it when Liam yanked it open again.

 

“Hey, give me your phone number will ya?”

 

Harry smiled wide and told Liam his phone number. A second later he could feel his phone vibrate with a text in his pocket.

 

“We’ll be in touch soon. Thanks again, Harry.” And with a smile and a wave, Liam went back into the apartment and closed the door. Harry opened his door and leaned against it with a smile, once he’d closed it. He was finally making friends and feeling better than he had in months.

 

Later that night despite getting in bed at a decent hour, Harry still couldn’t sleep. Perhaps drinking several cups of Yorkshire black tea this evening hadn’t been the best idea. He decided against staying in bed and instead got up, put on a pair of fleece socks that he tucked his flannel pajama bottoms into, threw on a hoodie and a fleece beanie and took the old duvet that he had lying across the back of his couch, and went to sit on his little terrace. This was definitely becoming a bad habit.

As Harry sat wrapped in his down blanket breathing in the chilly night air, he started thinking about something that he’d been avoiding for weeks. Christmas was just a week away and Harry had no idea what he was going to do. He really needed to call his sister Gemma and their step-father Robin.

This would be their first Christmas without Anne, and Harry was quite sure that none of them would be up for celebrating or doing anything, but Harry felt a need to spend time with his family and at least be sad about the loss of his mom together. He began thinking about the previous year’s Christmas, his mum and Robin had rented a cabin in Chamonix, France and he and Aiden and Gemma and her beaux at the time Peter had all gone; the six of them had a lovely time skiing, lounging in front of the fire, and eating the delicious meals that Anne, Robin and Harry all took turns cooking. Harry abruptly sat up and shook himself when he realized he had tears running down his face. This won’t do at all he admonished himself. He was supposed to be snapping out of his depression not wallowing in it, torturing himself thinking about happy Christmases past.

All of a sudden as if an angel from heaven themselves had come down to comfort him, Harry heard a familiar lilting tenor voice singing “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen.

_“…Well your faith was strong, but you needed proof._

_You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya’_

_She tied to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair,_

_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelooo oohoohoo yah…”_

 

The next line of the song faded as Louis, Harry was so glad he knew his name now, entered the front door of their building. Harry smiled when he realized that his tears from before had stopped flowing. He was more determined now than ever to meet Louis and figure out a way to thank him for always finding a way to lift his spirits. With that thought in his head, Harry went back inside and fell into his bed still wrapped in the duvet from the living room and wearing his socks, beanie and hoodie. He pulled the beanie and hood off and picked up his phone and earphones from his nightstand, thumbing through his music library until he came upon a cover of “Hallelujah” that he really enjoyed. He listened to it as he fell asleep, wishing instead that it was a young man with lovely light chestnut hair and sparkling blue eyes singing him to sleep with his soft voice.

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	2. CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO -

 

The next day Harry was finishing up the changes on his British Airways article requested by his editor when he got a text from Liam asking if he was free for lunch and wanted to join him and Niall at 1:30pm.

Harry looked at the time and then outside at the sunny day and realized that he had been sitting at his desk for over three hours. He definitely needed a break. Harry texted Liam back and agreed to meet them at a French café about a mile or so away. He gathered his phone, wallet and keys and put his shearling coat on, slapped a grey beanie on his head and headed out. Once outside, it was crisp, but so gorgeous and sunny that Harry decided to walk to the café. He probably needed the exercise anyway.

Harry walked up to the restaurant twenty minutes later and saw Liam and Niall sitting at a table in the window waiting for him. Liam saw Harry and waved him inside. Harry walked in and headed for their table unbuttoning his coat and taking his beanie off to stash it in one of his coat pockets.

“Am I late? Sorry. I decided to walk here but I got distracted by some of the holiday displays in the shop windows along the way.” Harry got hugged greetings from both Liam and Niall before sitting down.

 

“No, you’re right on time. Niall just walked in literally one minute before you. See? He hasn’t even had time to take his coat off yet.” Liam smiled and gestured at Niall still buttoned up in his wool coat.

 

As Niall started to remove his jacket, Harry noticed a square pin on his lapel that looked like a flag but it didn’t look like a flag for any country that Harry could recognize. The pin had stripes of yellow, white, purple, and black in that order.

 

“Niall? Can I ask about the pin on your coat? The colors are very pretty together. I feel a little ignorant but is that a flag for a country that I don’t know about?”

 

Niall looked down a little sheepish and then lifted his head and shared a look and small smile with Liam before facing Harry.

 

“I’m sorry. Is it personal? You don’t have to talk about it.” Harry tried to lighten the sudden tension at the table.

 

“Oh nah mate, it’s okay. If I didn’t want people asking me about it, I wouldn’t wear it on my coat would I? I just forgot it was there. I meant to remove it after the meeting I went to yesterday. It’s the flag for the non-binary gender identity.” Niall said matter of factly and looked Harry straight in the eye, almost as if he were slightly challenging him.

Harry wasn’t too familiar with non-binary people but had taken a class at uni on human sexuality that had discussed it briefly. He said as much to Niall now.

“Is that your gender expression then? Non-binary?” Harry asked gently.

 

Niall was silent for several seconds and just blinked at Harry, until Liam took his hand in his across the table and kissed it. “It’s okay babe. Harry’s cool. He’ll understand if you tell him.” Liam smiled which gave Niall the strength to continue. He turned to Harry again.

“Nonbinary gender is like a term that covers anything that’s connected to gender identity that doesn't fit within the gender binary of male or female. I guess I describe myself as “gender fluid”. I feel like I fall outside of the gender binary; I feel like I’m different genders at different times. But I really never get that specific or think about it all that much I guess? I mean, I’m in love with Liam, and we’re in a serious relationship, but I don’t think of myself as gay if that makes sense, because I don’t always identify as a man. I prefer the pronoun ‘they’, but I don’t get hung up on that detail. If people use ‘he/him’ it doesn’t bother me.”

 

Harry was silent for a moment and then he smiled. “Wow Niall, that is really neat. Thank you for sharing this with me. Do the colors on the flag mean something?”

 

“Yeah. Yellow represents those whose gender exists outside of male or female because yellow is often used to mean ‘one on its own’. White is for those who have many or all genders because white is the photological presence of color and/or light. The purple stands for folks who feel they are a mix of female and male. And black is for people without a gender at all because black is the photological absence of color and/or light.”

 

“That is really so cool!” Harry hoped that Niall didn’t think his enthusiasm was fake. He truly was very interested and honored that Niall had shared this part of himself with Harry.

 

“Okay. If you think so.” Niall smiled. “I hardly ever talk about it with people because it’s so hard to explain. How sometimes I feel like the ultimate guy’s guy, you know who likes football and playing FIFA and drinking Guinness and burping. But other times, especially when I’m at work, this nurturing caregiver part of me feels very much female; I feel like I’m harnessing the energy of my mother and my grandmother and their mothers and grandmothers before them. Anyway, it took me like 20 years to get a handle on all of my crap, I’m okay with myself but I get why others wouldn’t be.”

 

The waitress came and took their orders, and placed a basket of bread with a small ramekin of butter on the table before she walked off. All three men busied themselves with buttering pieces of bread and the stilted feeling of the conversation seemed to lift.

 

“You said you had worn the pin because you were at a meeting yesterday?” Harry hoped that Niall didn’t mind continuing to talk about his sexuality; Harry was truly fascinated. He looked up from the bread he was tearing a piece off of and saw that Niall was smiling at him, so he felt okay asking.

 

“Yeah, not really a meeting. I volunteer a couple of times a month at a local LGBTQ+ youth group and teen crisis center. In fact all three of us, Liam, Louis and me all volunteer there. But yeah, yesterday I met with some of the kids. Everyone was asked to wear a button to represent how they identify to make it easy for the new kids to find someone to talk to.”

 

“Oh wow. Um, is the center looking for more volunteers? I mean, I’d love to help. I mean, I’m gay so I have experience? Ugh. Sorry that’s not how I meant that to come out of my mouth. “ Harry grimaced and gave a chagrined smile.

 

“It’s okay Harry.” Liam chuckled. “The center is always looking for and needing volunteers. Especially people who can help out during off hours. That’s why it’s been convenient for the 3 of us. Our schedules at the hospital, especially Louis and Niall’s, can be crazy but that means that we can often take volunteer shifts nobody else wants.”

 

“That would be great, Liam. Please let whoever know that they can contact me. Whenever.” Harry punctuated his statement by popping a piece of buttered roll into his mouth and chewing contentedly.

 

The three of them went on to have a very nice lunch of croque monsieur sandwiches and garden salads. After lunch they stood outside of the restaurant and Harry wondered if there was a way he could keep the good feeling of lunch going. He really liked Liam and Niall; he wanted to hang out with them all the time. Niall departed for his shift at the hospital, giving Harry a hug and thanking him for being cool. Harry blushed and thanked Niall again for opening up to him.

When it was just Harry and Liam left, Liam looked at his watch and then back up at Harry. “Well, it’s almost 2 do you fancy a walk back to the apartment? I have to head back to the hospital in a couple of hours, but I’m hoping to catch up on a couple of episodes of “The Fall” on Netflix. Have you ever watched it? I love it.”

 

“My sister Gemma likes it I know. But I don’t really like thrillers or murder mysteries I’m afraid. I get scared too easily.” Harry was a little embarrassed to admit that.

 

Liam let out a small laugh and then abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, thanks for being cool about the non-binary thing with Niall.”

 

“Of course. I mean, how could I not be? Niall is so wonderful. Wait. Do people have issues with his sexuality? Have others been mean about it?” Harry asked incredulously.

 

“Yes. A lot of people have been pretty awful to him. He doesn’t talk about it with many people except for the kids at the center. He wouldn’t even tell me about it for almost a year. This was before we started dating, obviously. We were just lunch buddies at the hospital who had bonded over our love of Iron Man, FIFA, and the Sherlock series. We became best friends and then I realized that I was falling for him. Niall knew my feelings but kept me at arm’s length, until I just eventually wore him down.” Liam laughed, which made Harry smile.

“I’m bisexual. Niall was so hesitant to start a romantic relationship with me because he thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to handle his changing identities or whatever. But I just love Niall for Niall. I don’t care if it’s girl-Niall or boy-Niall. I just love Niall.”

 

“You’re Niall-sexual.” Harry giggled at his own stupid joke.

 

“Ha! Yeah, I am.” Liam cackled out loud.

 

"So, is your roommate seeing anyone? Does he have a boyfriend?" Harry hoped that he wasn't being too obvious. He tried to look casual and peered into a shop window as they walked by.

 

"Louis? Naw, he's single. He hasn't dated anyone in years I don't think actually. Too stressed with med school and his schedule is too crazy." Liam stopped walking suddenly, startling Harry. "Wait. Why do you want to know? Are you interested in Louis? I didn't think you'd even met him, Harry."

 

"I haven't. Not officially. But you and Niall talk about him in such nice ways and I'm not going to lie - I think he's very cute." Harry started walking again, faster this time, forcing Liam to jog a little to catch up.

 

"Well well well. Do you want me to put in a good word for ya? We've already been singing your praises about how cool you are, and Louis himself said that your lasagna was like the best thing he'd ever tasted."

 

"No. No I don't need you matchmaking, thank you Liam. I want things to happen organically." Harry didn't even know what he meant by that. And by the incredulous look on Liam's face, he didn't it either.

 

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 

Harry’s insomnia was back and he wasn’t happy about it. He lay in bed and blinked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through this Christmas by himself. But he was sort of determined to do just that. Gemma and his little nephew would be spending Christmas with her husband’s family on the beach in Queensland. Harry knew that his step-father Robin would probably love to have his company for Christmas and New Year’s but Harry honestly didn’t think he could handle Robin. He was just so sad; of course he was, he’d lost his wife, but Harry was just as depressed and he figured it would be awful for both of them to be moping around being miserable around each other. Robin understood. He was going to spend Christmas with his sister and her family. He planned to be there for about a month. He’d said that he’d sent Harry’s Christmas present early before he’d left for Wales.

Harry sat up abruptly. The package from Robin should be in his mailbox by now. Harry rarely checked his mailbox because he’d only lived in the building for a few months and he rarely got mail, everything being digital and online these days. But who knew the quantity of junk mail and circulars that could be stuffing his box at this moment. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time he’d checked. Early November? October? He figured that there was no time like the present to check it now; 2:30 in the morning was the perfect time to deal with embarrassing amounts of junk mail, and hopefully a nice present from his stepfather would be waiting as well. Harry got out of bed and threw on a hoodie to cover his pajamas, and slipped on his gorilla furry slippers since they were warm and his feet were cold.

Ten minutes later Harry wished that he’d brought a blue recycling bin with him, because there was indeed a ton of junk mail crammed full in his mailbox. Robin’s poor packaged had been unceremoniously smushed into the center of his box completely wedged in place by the metric ton of coupons, circulars, and random catalogs that were taking up the rest of the space. Harry was tugging on a particular piece of stuck catalog that wouldn’t budge when it suddenly tore out of his grasp and he fell right onto his bum on to the carpeted hardwood floor of the lobby. Harry heard a high-pitched giggle and whipped his head around towards the sound. It was Louis! Oh good lord Louis Tomlinson was standing above him wearing scrubs and a huge down overcoat with a wool beanie pulled down on his pretty fringed hair. Louis Tomlinson from apartment 4D was full on laughing at him at 3 in the morning!

 

“Here, let me help you up.” Louis said through his continued laughter and offered Harry a hand up. Harry grabbed on and stood up as smoothly as he could muster. His hand absently went first to his hair which he realized was sporting some serious poofy bedhead disaster, and then down to his flannel pj bottoms which had little ice skating penguins on them. Jesus, could he possibly be any more embarrassing?

 

“Uh, thank you.” Harry said as he tried to flatten his hair done a bit and tuck it behind his ears. Louis just nodded and continued to laugh behind his hands. Harry felt a bit touchy. “It wasn’t that funny, I don’t think.”

 

“I’m sorry. I know. I’m just coming off of a 36 hour shift and I am rummy. And you can’t imagine my surprise when I walked in not expecting to see anyone at this hour and not only were you there, but you were prat-falling like a person in a sitcom and wearing flannel pjs and monkey slippers. You can’t expect me not to laugh!” Louis punctuated that statement with a final giggle.

 

“They’re gorillas not monkeys, and I couldn’t sleep and then remembered that I was expecting a package and I hadn’t checked my mail recently.” Harry looked back at his mailbox with the jumble of junk mail still exploding from it.

 

“How do you define ‘recently’? Two years?” Louis asked in disbelief as he eyed the stuffed box.

 

“Ha ha. I’ve only lived here since October, so obviously not that long. And I know I’ve checked my mail at least twice since I’ve been here. Companies just send a lot of junk out during the holidays!”

 

“You’re right about that. Hey, you’re the neighbor boy aren’t you? The guy that made the delicious lasagna for us that I almost cried into it was so good? That is after having to fight Niall over the last piece. I’ve heard a ton about you. Li and Nialler haven’t shut up about ya. ‘Harry is so funny. Harry is so sweet.’ I feel like I’m proper being replaced as their best mate.” Louis tried and failed to hold back a smile.

 

Harry’s smile brightened at hearing this. “Yes, that’s me, I’m Harry. Harry Styles. I’m in 4C. And you’re Louis. It’s been cool getting to know Liam and Niall and hanging out a few times with them, but you’re always working when I’ve been over. I’ve seen you walking home from work a few late nights though.” Harry’s eye widened when he realized what he’d said.

 

“You’ve seen me walking home? How? Have you been following me?” Louis asked cheekily but also looked a little horrified.

 

“I can’t sleep, remember? So I’m often up very late. And I like to sit out on my balcony. So I’ve seen you walking home. You’re kind of hard to miss; especially when you’re singing. Which you do…a lot.” Harry smiled warmly at Louis.

 

“Oh god. You’ve heard me singing? I’m quite mortified at that. I never imagined anyone was up and about hearing me.”

 

“Don’t be ashamed. You've a beautiful voice.”

 

“Ah now you’re just having me on. Compliments will get you nowhere Styles.” Louis beamed a smile at Harry that made his eyes go all crinkly.

Louis reached over and tugged on the mail stuck in Harry’s box and it came out in a clump which he handed to Harry.

 

“There ya go. I’ve got to go upstairs now and get in my bed where I plan on staying for at least the next 16 hours. But next time you can’t sleep and you see me coming home, give a holler down and we’ll have a cup ‘o tea or something. Or you know if you ever feel like making me, us, food again I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Louis gave Harry a wink and another smile.

All Harry could do was nod and thank him for helping get the junk mail unstuck. He remembered to reply just as the elevator doors were closing. “See you around, Louis.”

 

||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 

Harry did end up making dinner again for Louis, Liam and Niall, the following evening. This time it was a Thai peanut curry with shrimp and spinach and Basmati rice; and this time Harry didn’t eat his portion ahead of time, but instead joined the three guys for a lovely meal. Louis remarked that it was the first time in months that he’d eaten dinner at a proper time, and the first time in a while that he’d been able to share a meal with his roommates and best friends. He’d missed them.

Everyone complimented Harry on his delicious curry; Louis and Niall fought for seconds and then thirds. The praise just made Harry beam; he had really missed having friends to cook for and hang out with. He really liked these three guys; especially the compact one with the sparkling blue eyes and soft brown hair. A couple of times during the evening he caught eyes with Louis across the table. It wasn’t surprising on Harry’s part because he pretty much had been staring at Louis the entire evening. But whenever Louis’ eyes would meet his it was like a spark ignited; the room seemed to get brighter, everything just seemed clearer somehow. Harry felt a flash of heat travel through his body each time he looked into Louis’ beautiful blue eyes. Louis would smile each time and a blush would creep onto his cheeks; did that mean he felt the beginning of something too?

Being around the real Louis, and not just observing the late night fantasy version that he’d made up was better than Harry could’ve imagined. Real Louis was charming, funny, rather loud and boisterous, and so thoughtful and sweet that Harry could see that he could easily fall head over feet for Louis “perfect boyfriend material” Tomlinson. He was going to have to be a little careful with his heart; Harry was still healing from his breakup with Aiden in September. He definitely didn’t have any feelings for Aiden, except maybe disdain, but he was aware that he’d given his whole heart to him easily, and he had promised himself that he wouldn’t ever be so quick to fall in love again. Add to this the fact that his heart was already bruised from the loss of his mum; Harry had to protect himself.

Still, it was the holiday season and Harry was a certified romantic sap who tended to let the good feelings of Christmas color his interactions with attractive, charming men. He felt flirtier, yet shyer and coyer. He wanted to spend more time with Louis because being around him felt like a soothing balm to his soul.

Harry left his new friends that evening happier than he’d been in many months. He practically floated on good will and fellowship to his apartment next door. And he had his first, solid nine hours of interrupted dreamless sleep since his mother passed away. He was grateful.


	3. CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE -

 

 

Harry woke in the late morning two days later with a deep ache in his heart. He was missing his mum terribly. When he looked at his phone and saw the date he immediately knew why. Today was December 20. This marked the day that his mother Anne always began her Christmas biscuit baking. Exactly five days before Christmas. That was the perfect time period that allowed for optimum biscuit freshness for Christmas and Boxing Day. Harry knew exactly what he would be doing that day; knew exactly what he would be making, even as his body went on autopilot and got out of bed and made his way into the bathroom to pee and take a shower.

He would bake a couple of his mother’s biscuit recipes; he knew he had ingredients in the house for at least three or four batches of each kind. You always had to make a lot for gift giving. Harry inherited his generosity of spirit and his love of giving food gifts from his mum. He would put on Christmas music by Andy Williams and bake and think about his beloved mother. He would do the biscuits this year alone; he would carry on the tradition for Anne. Harry would take her place for this first Christmas without her and for every Christmas moving forward. He would celebrate her. He would be strong for her.

Thirty minutes later, Harry was freshly showered and setting the several pounds of butter out on the woodblock island to come to room temperature softness. As he waited for this, he got out his carton of eggs and set them on the counter as well because it was always better to work with ingredients that were the same temperature. He got out all of the ingredients that he needed for the biscuits he would bake that day and lined them up neatly along the counter. He unwrapped the brand new bottle of Tahitian vanilla that his sister Gemma had brought back for him when she was there on holiday with her husband Peter over the summer. He got out all of his biscuit sheets and lined them with the silicone baking sheets that he favored. He cleared a shelf in the refrigerator for dough that would need to chill; he zested and juiced lemons and set the juice and zest aside in bowls to use for later. He preheated his oven to 185 C, and toasted and chopped pistachios. He then turned on his Bluetooth wireless speakers and put his mother’s favorite Andy Williams album on to play. “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” started and Harry felt a little more in the holiday spirit almost immediately.

When all was prepped and the butter was soft, he pulled Anne’s leather-bound recipe book off of the shelf in his room and opened it to the first recipe that he was going to make that day. His mother’s handwriting stood out beautiful and cursive surrounding the little 3x5 index card where she had typed on an old fashioned typewriter the ingredients and measurements.

 

**Anne’s Lemon-Pistachio Wreaths for when you’re feeling down and need a little pick-me-up**

**INGREDIENTS**

  * _1 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for work surface_

  * _3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon cornstarch_

  * _1 teaspoon baking powder_

  * _1/4 teaspoon salt_

  * _1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened_

  * _1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon granulated sugar_

  * _2 large egg yolks, room temperature_

  * _5 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest, plus 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice_

  * _1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract_

  * _1 3/4 cups confectioners’ sugar_

  * _1 1/2 cups shelled unsalted pistachios, toasted and coarsely chopped_




**DIRECTIONS**

  1. _Whisk flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl and set aside. Yes, you will need to use a separate bowl for these dry ingredients. Part of baking is coming to the understanding that you’re going to make a mess and use a lot of pans, bowls and utensils. But suck it up. And clean everything up between batches while your biscuits are baking, and it won’t seem so daunting._

  2. _Put softened (let it come to room temperature, don’t microwave it like a cretin!) butter and granulated sugar into the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Don’t have a stand mixer with a paddle attachment? BUY ONE. Mix on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy. Mix in yolks, lemon zest, and vanilla. Reduce speed to low, and gradually mix in flour mixture. Shape into a disk; wrap in plastic. Refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour, but you can also make this dough ahead and keep it in the fridge or freezer for up to a week._

  3. _Preheat oven to 170 C._

  4. _Transfer dough to a lightly floured work surface. Roll out to a generous 1/8 inch thick. Using a 2 1/2-inch round fluted cutter, cut out wreaths. Reroll scraps, and cut out more wreaths. Cut out centers of wreaths using a 7/8-inch round cutter. Space 2 inches apart on baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Refrigerate until firm, about 15 minutes. This second refrigeration is an important step. Don’t skip it!_

  5. _Bake until just golden, about 12 minutes. Let cool completely on wire racks. 5. Stir together confectioners' sugar and lemon juice in a small bowl. Dip surface of each biscuit in icing, and sprinkle with pistachios. Let set on wire racks._




_“These pretty wreath biscuits are festive and are perfect with a cup of Earl or Lady Grey tea. Eating lemon flavored things is a mood lifter. Don’t let anyone tell you that Lemon is just a flavor for spring and summer. It’s good any time of year, but especially at Christmas.”_

 

Harry pulled batch after batch of the delicate and gorgeous looking Christmas wreath shaped biscuits out of the oven and placed them on the cooling racks that he had set up all over his dining room and coffee tables. He danced around and sang along to Andy has he crooned about happy holidays. He made the lemon glaze icing for the wreath biscuits; making it extra tart just liked Anne had taught him. The biscuits were perfect and beautiful just like his mum’s. He got out the biscuit tins that he’d purchased from the thrift store the week before and lined them with parchment paper and started putting the cooled and set glazed wreath biscuits inside.

Harry then cleaned his work surfaces off and washed out his mixing bowl and the rubber spatulas and biscuit cutters that he’d used. It was important to keep a clean and organized kitchen as you baked each batch of biscuits; the voice of his mother rang through his head. He got out the molasses and all of the spices that he’d need for the gingerbread biscuits he was making next. He picked up his mother’s leather recipe book again and opened it up to the dog-eared page towards the back.

** **

**Gingerbread Trees with Lemon Icing for Gemma**

Ingredients

For the biscuits:

  * _2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled), plus more for rolling_
  * _1 teaspoon baking soda_
  * _1 teaspoon ground ginger_
  * _1/2 teaspoon ground cloves_
  * _1/2 teaspoon cinnamon_
  * _1 teaspoon coarse salt_
  * _1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature_
  * _3/4 cup granulated sugar_
  * _1 large egg_
  * _1/4 cup unsulfured molasses_
  * For the icing:


  * _2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice_
  * _1 1/3 cups confectioners' sugar_
  * _Sanding or coarse sugar (optional)_



Directions

  1. _To make biscuits: In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, and salt. In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat butter and granulated sugar on medium-high until creamy, 3 minutes. Add egg and beat to combine. Add molasses and beat to combine, scraping down bowl as needed. With mixer on low, gradually add flour mixture and beat until combined. Wrap dough in plastic and refrigerate until firm, 1 hour (or up to 3 days)._
  2. _Preheat oven to 175 C, with racks in upper and lower thirds. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out dough to a 1/4-inch thickness. With a sharp knife or biscuit cutter, cut dough into small 2-inch-wide triangles. Arrange triangles, 1 inch apart, on two parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake until biscuits are firm and golden at edges, 10 to 12 minutes. Let cool completely on sheets on wire racks._
  3. _Make icing: In a small bowl, combine lemon juice and confectioners' sugar and whisk until smooth. Drizzle icing over cooled biscuits and sprinkle with sanding sugar, if desired._



 

Harry smiled fondly at the little note his mum had written under the typewritten recipe.

_Again, some people are initially turned off by the idea of gingerbread and lemon. That’s poppy-cock! The two flavor profiles complement each other and are perfect together._

He mixed all of the spices together first in a small bowl. The powdered ginger, cloves, and cinnamon released their strong and comforting fragrances as he stirred them together. He added the salt and then poured this spice mixture into the bowl that had the flour and baking soda. After he’d creamed together the butter, sugar, eggs and molasses, he then added the dry ingredients a little at a time until it all came together. He gathered the biscuit dough and shaped it into a large flat disk about 3 inches thick and wrapped it tightly in cling film before putting it in the refrigerator to chill for about an hour.

 

Making these gingerbread biscuits made him think of his sister, so Harry finally did something that he’d been avoiding for weeks; he called Gemma.

She picked up after the fourth ring sounding harried and frazzled. “Hullo?”

 

“Hi Gems, it’s your brother.”

 

“Harry! Oh Harry, I’ve missed you. How’s Manchester? Have you settled in? Found a routine?” Just as Harry expected Gemma was filling in the mother-hen role just fine.

 

“I’m good. Well, I’m better. I’m getting there.” Was Harry’s round-about response.

 

“Okaaaaayy? That doesn’t sound too positive. You’re not still hung up on that twat Aiden are you? He’s not worth your tears, babe.” Gemma sounded like the fierce protective older sister that she’d always been to him.

 

“Believe me, I don’t waste thoughts or tears on Aiden anymore. I’ve missed some of the friendships that I made through him that I’ve since lost, but I’m starting to make new friends here in Manchester and I’m starting to feel less depressed.”

 

“Is it mum?” Gemma asked quietly.

 

“Of course. Especially this week. I didn’t think the prospect of spending my first Christmas without her would be so daunting and sad, but it is. I’m baking biscuits today because I had to. I couldn’t imagine not keeping up the tradition, even though a lot of tears have been mixed into the dough today.”

 

“Oh Harry, I can’t believe you’re doing the biscuits. Pistachio Wreaths?”

 

“Obviously. Plus your favorite Lemon Gingerbread Trees. And I’m probably going to make the Mazurka on Christmas Eve.” Harry hadn’t fully decided whether he was going to keep up that part of the tradition of making the Polish Mazurka biscuits that his mother’s side of the family had done for generations, but saying it out loud to Gemma now, Harry knew he would do it.

 

“This makes me happy to hear and also terribly sad. I couldn’t do it: it would hurt my heart too much.” Gemma sounded sad.

 

“I think I’d be sadder if I didn’t make them, so I think I’m doing the right thing.” Harry replied.

 

“Now I for sure wish I had made you come to Peter’s aunt’s house for Christmas with us. You sound like you need a hug. And I can almost taste the biscuits and I’m sad I’ll miss out this year.”

 

“I can always scan the recipe pages from the book and send them to you?” Harry suggested knowing full well that Gemma wouldn’t take him up on his offer.

 

“Are you serious? I don’t have time or the patience to bake biscuits!”

 

“Yeah, I figured. How about I send a care package filled with biscuits on Christmas Eve? You won’t get them until Boxing Day, but at least you’ll have biscuits. It really wouldn’t be the holiday season without them; you know that.”

 

“You’re right baby brother. God, I miss you fiercely. I just keep thinking that we should really be together right now. I miss mum too, you know? It’s just that with Charlie just walking he’s in EVERYTHING and I’m so busy all the time, I find that I almost don’t have time to miss or be sad about mum. Then I feel terribly guilty about that. It’s a vicious circle. And Peter’s useless to talk to about it. He just doesn’t get it. I need my brother, Harry.“ Gemma sounded like she might be about to cry.

 

“I know Gem. I need you too. How about I come and stay with you guys right after the new year? I can even babysit the little monster for an evening so that you and Peter can have a proper date night. How does that sound?”

 

“It sounds like heaven. I love the idea of seeing you in early January. Let’s plan for it.”

 

“Done.” Harry felt better; he was glad he’d called his sister. All of a sudden he heard a crash on the other line.

 

“Shit! Harry I have to go. Charlie just pulled the dishrack done onto the floor. He doesn’t seemed to have brained himself thank heavens. Call us on Christmas Day! Love you much.” And with that Gemma hung up not waiting for Harry’s reply.

 

Harry turned off his phone and went to get the chilling gingerbread dough out of the freezer to roll it out and to cut it into triangle shaped tree biscuits. He laid the triangle pieces of gingerbread biscuit dough on the silicone mats that lined his two biscuit sheets and placed them in his preheated oven.

He switched to Kelly Clarkson’s Christmas album and cranked up the volume on the speaker and sang along as the timer dinged letting him know that the first dozen of gingerbread trees were ready to take out of the oven to cool and wait for their icing drizzle. Harry looked for his silicone oven mitts which he preferred over just the regular potholders but couldn’t find where he’d put them after taking the other biscuits out earlier. Instead he grabbed one of the regular cotton potholders and opened the oven to take out the biscuits. He took the bottom sheet out first and immediately felt the heat from the pan seeping through the cloth of the potholder. He quickly set the biscuit sheet down on top of the stove and leaned down to take the other sheet out from the top oven rack.

The heat coming through the potholder from the pan was almost unbearable almost as soon as he grabbed the edge of the biscuit sheet. But Harry didn’t pause to pull out the oven rack first; nor did he grab a dish towel to help offset the heat from the biscuit sheet. He instead just yanked on the sheet with the potholder and tried to quickly pull it out and place it on top of the stove; except that instead of pulling the biscuit sheet straight out, Harry pulled it up. The surge of painful heat coming from the pan started to burn his palm and fingers which caused Harry to involuntarily jerk his hand up and away from the pan…and straight up against the lethally hot top interior surface of the oven. As soon as the unprotected skin on the back of Harry’s hand met that hot surface, he let out a blood-curdling shriek. Searing pain went through his hand and traveled like a bullet through his entire body.

Harry dropped the biscuit sheet in a flash and held his injured hand by the wrist and away from his body as he cried out in pain. He was afraid to look at his hand because by the amount of pain that he felt he wasn’t sure what sight awaited him. Was that burning flesh he smelled? Oh god he felt faint. Was he going to pass out and be found days later with a burned off stump of hand? The continued pain that was causing tears to flow freely, and hop from one foot to the other brought Harry back to reality. He grabbed a clean dish towel and turned on the cold water tap and soaked the towel before wrapping it around his hand. Instead of bringing sweet relief; the cold water only seemed to make the pain worse which made Harry cry even more. He felt a bit hopeless and wasn’t sure what to do. The pain was making it so that he couldn’t think straight; he couldn’t focus on anything but the throbbing pain. Then like a lightbulb going on in his head Harry had an idea. The boys! Someone had to be home next door. They’d know what to do.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR -

 

Harry stumbled out of his apartment door not even bothering with shoes, and still wearing his apron. He cradled his aching burned hand to his chest and hurried next door. It wasn’t 8pm yet so he didn’t think it was too late. He knew someone was home because he could see light coming from under the door and could hear faint music playing; it sounded like Mariah Carey’s Christmas album if he wasn’t mistaken. He rang the doorbell while hopping slightly up and down on his socked feet. His hand was really starting to throb with pain now.

Louis opened the door cautiously and then when he saw who it was, threw it open the rest of the way in shock.

“Harry? What’s happened?!”

Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out at first. His pain was forgotten for a few seconds as he stared into Louis’ blue eyes and took in his loveliness. Louis was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a cashmere jumper in blue that was the color of cornflowers. He looked so soft and like comfort personified. Harry wanted to collapse into his arms and bury his face in the spot where Louis’ graceful neck met his shoulders. He wanted Louis to hold him tight and tell him everything would be alright. Harry had to fight the tug of his body as it made to do just that, and stumbled back a step, feeling a little queasy as the severe pain in his hand came back into his consciousness in full force.

 

“I…can you help me? I burned my hand taking a tray of biscuits out of the oven.” Harry managed to stammer out.

 

“Oh gosh, yes. You’ve come to the right place. Come in, come in.” Louis hopped back out of the way and ushered Harry inside the large apartment, placing his hand gently on the small of Harry’s back.

 

Harry felt the pleasant warmth from Louis’ hand and wished that Louis was touching his skin directly and not through the barrier of his t-shirt. He realized that he had zoned out and had missed the first couple of words that Louis was now speaking to him as he pulled him to the kitchen, unwrapped the dishcloth wrapped around his injury, and placed his hand under the cold tap of the kitchen sink.

 

“…anyway it’s lucky it’s me you’ve got and not Liam. I’m actually working on becoming a resident in the Burn unit at the hospital, have I told you that?, so I’m somewhat of an expert. Liam’s just a dumb pathologist! What would he have done? Put some iodine and a plaster on you?” Louis finished this statement with a wink and a grin and Harry couldn’t help but smile back in a daze of pain and what he thought might be a little lust.

 

“Well come on. Let’s sit you down and I’ll get the stuff I need to bandage you up from the loo.” Louis led Harry by the hand like a lost child and pushed him towards the sofa as he headed down the hall on their right, which Harry knew led to the bathroom and the two bedrooms.

Harry sat on the large comfortable couch holding his hand up and away from his body as he was told and waited for Louis to bring the first aid stuff from the bathroom. He noticed two things – first that the New Zealand travel guide that he wrote was inexplicably sitting open and face down on the coffee table in front of him. And that next to it was a half empty cup of tea that still had steam coming up from it; beside it a small plate with what appeared to be a half-eaten piece of banana bread. Harry felt like crying even harder than he had been before.      

Louis returned with a black wicker basket filled with boxes of bandages, rubbing alcohol, iodine, hydrogen peroxide, and other tubes of unidentified creams and ointments. He saw Harry’s tear stained face and immediately crouched down beside him and squeezed his knee in comfort.

 

“Are you okay? I know it’s probably throbbing in pain, but I promise it’s only a slight 2nd degree burn. I’ll have you bandaged up in no time and I’ll give you a couple of paracetamols and it should stop hurting within an hour or so.”

Harry looked at him startled and absently wiped the tears from his face with his uninjured hand. He shook his head trying to clear it.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m not…I shouldn’t have bothered you. I should’ve just taken myself to the urgent care. I feel…you’re just off work and I’ve clearly interrupted your tea.” Harry gestured towards the coffee table, another tear slipping down his cheek.

 

“Don’t be silly, love. Of course you were right to come here. I told you before – this is what I do.”

 

“I thought you were working in Emergency. Is it the Burn Unit then?” Harry asked, wiping away the last of his tears.

 

“Oh well yeah, I’m still a resident so I’m doing rotations and right now I am in the ER, but Burns and Reconstructive Plastics is my passion. Focusing on children; I really want to eventually get my residency in the Pediatric Burn Unit at the hospital.” Louis looked up at Harry through his long eyelashes and gave a small smile. Harry felt like he was floating and yet felt grounded at the same time.

 

“Working with little kids. I can totally see that.” Harry smiled wide, his dimples cratering his cheeks, and then the smile fell off his face and was replaced with a grimace of pain.

 

“Owwwww! Fuck. That stings.” Harry’s first instinct was to pull his hand away, but he resisted and Louis was now rubbing some kind of ointment on the burn that felt quite soothing. Harry sighed in relief.

 

“I’m sorry Harry. I had to disinfect the burn with Bactine before putting the antibiotic ointment on it. It feels better now doesn’t it?” Louis looked at Harry which such concern that Harry couldn’t do anything else but smile again.

 

“Yeah…yeah uh, it’s better now.” Louis picked up his burned hand again and began wrapping it expertly in fine gauze and then with a more durable stretchy cotton bandage. His gentle and deft hands worked quickly and soon Harry’s hand was fully wrapped in a snug bandage that still left his fingers and most of his thumb free. It was just on the right side of tight, and Harry could already feel the ointment doing its job.

 

Louis moved from the floor at Harry’s feet to sit on the couch next to him and picked through the first aid basket taking out a pill bottle and emptying two tablets out. “Here’s the paracetamol; they’re 800mg, so pretty powerful. I’ll give you this bottle. Don’t take more than 4 a day.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry started to put them in his mouth but realized he didn’t have anything to drink. Louis noticed this and reached across Harry to hand him his forgotten cup of tea.

 

“Here. It’s gone cold by now, but a good sip of Yorkshire is just the thing to swallow those pills down.”

 

Harry sipped at the tea which was just black, without the sugar and milk he liked, but tasty nevertheless. He swallowed the pills and started to thank Louis again as he sat the cup back on its saucer when he saw the plate of half-eaten banana bread and again felt tears welling up. This time Harry couldn’t hold back his sob, or his desire to burrow himself in the comfort of Louis’ arms. He turned and threw his arms around Louis, pressing his face into the softness of his jumper and crying into the hollows of Louis’ gorgeous collarbones. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry in response, and dragged him closer so that he was almost cradling him; Harry’s long body half draped over Louis with his long legs hanging off the couch.

 

“Shhh…hush love,” Louis comforted and brushed the hair off Harry’s forehead, “what’s the matter? It’s not just you’re burned hand. What’s making you cry?”

 

“It’s stupid.” Harry mumbled against Louis’ chest, holding him tighter with his uninjured hand.

 

“Naw, it can’t be stupid if it’s making you sad. What’s happened?”

 

“I miss my mum!” Harry wailed. He sat up and moved off of Louis, facing forward but still sagged against him. Louis wrapped his arm around Harry and patted his shoulder.

 

“I miss me mum too. I always do around the holidays. She and my youngest sisters and brother live up in Doncaster. And it looks like I’ll have to work through my birthday, Christmas, and Boxing Day. I hate being away from mum during this time of year.” Louis squeezed Harry’s shoulder again.

 

“My mother died five months ago and this is my first Christmas without her. I thought I was done with all the crying; I thought I’d cried all of the tears that I could possibly cry for her, but this month has been pure torture. And I saw..I saw the…that plate with the banana bread and…god, I’m sorry. I just lost it.” Harry continued to sniffle but the torrent of tears had stopped.

 

“What about the banana bread made you cry? I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s actually quite tasty if I don’t say so myself. It’s one of the only things I know how to cook well. My nan taught me how to make it when I was 9.” Louis smiled proudly.

 

“I’m sure it tastes lovely…”

 

“Do you want a piece? There’s more in the kitchen.” Louis started to stand up but Harry pushed him back down.

 

“No, thank you. I don’t eat banana bread anymore.” Harry said this so morosely that Louis just sat down again and stared at him with a quizzical look on his face. Harry scooted over to the end of the couch and leaned against the arm so that he faced Louis but stared at a point slightly above Louis’ head, as if he was remembering something important, and he started to speak again.

 

“ My mum always baked when she was stressed. It’s the one characteristic that we shared when it came to cooking - baking when stressed; baking as a form of self-care or therapy. The day my mom died, she had baked banana bread. She was up for a head position on the board of directors at the Leeds Museum and she was very nervous about it. It was between her and another man who’d been involved with the museum forever. She thought he was going to get the job for sure even though she was more qualified. So yeah, uh she must’ve decided to bake that morning to take her mind off things.”

 

“I can just see her now; noticing bananas left abandoned on the counter for days while she’s been running back and forth during errands, volunteering, and all of the meetings that she’d gone to ass-kissing for this job that she wanted. And that morning she’s stressed out in her kitchen drinking her coffee and she thinks – banana bread, this is something I can do. I can see her methodically getting all of her ingredients together; deciding on using walnut oil instead of butter because she doesn’t want to wait for it to soften. She makes the batter and pours it into the greased and floured tin; bakes it and then takes it out and covers it with a tea towel to cool. When did she call me? Because you know, she did that day? She called me that morning while I was at work writing some stupid article about Disneyland Paris and fretting about a deadline. Did she call while it was still in the oven? After it had already been put to rest on the counter under its tea towel blanket? While she was doing these steps? I wish I could remember more details about that call; the last time I ever heard my mother’s beautiful voice. Did she talk about baking the banana bread? Probably not; she wouldn’t have bothered me with something so mundane. I wish she had. I wish I had listened more.” Harry trailed off, blinking a fresh set of tears away and looking at Louis’ concerned face.

 

“She was hit by a car that afternoon. And she was dead by that evening. I was the only person by her side at the hospital. My stepdad was on a flight back from Dubai when it happened, and my sister and her husband and baby didn’t make it from London in time. So um, I haven’t eaten banana bread since. The thought of it makes me ill.” This sudden non sequitur snapped Louis out of his shocked staring at Harry, and he turned towards the coffee table and pushed the offensive plate away. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to eat banana bread again either after hearing Harry’s sad tale.

 

“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry about your mum.” Louis wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders and brought him close. Harry rested his head on Louis’ shoulder and breathed deeply.

 

“Thanks. I just…I’m tired of being sad, you know? I moved to Manchester for a new start. Away from my mother’s house; away from that awful intersection where she died that I was having to go miles out of my way to avoid; away from stupid arsehole Aiden and his stupid ‘space’. Manchester was supposed to be my fresh beginning. You know, decide want I want to do for the rest of my life – was I going to do travel writing forever, or open that bakery that my mum always wanted me to. I’d make new friends, maybe find someone to love me; really love me, just as I am. And I’ve been doing okay; I met you and Liam and Niall – you’re my friend, aren’t you Louis?” Harry asked through a new wave of tears; he was babbling like he was drunk or stoned and he couldn’t even stop. His grief was pouring out of him now.

 

“Of course I’m your friend, Harry. Liam and Niall too. It’s almost crazy how fast you’ve become important to me, but you’re such a wonderful and sweet person, it’s hard not to be incredibly fond of you darling.” Louis cradled Harry’s face and gently wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

 

“You’ll be okay, Harry. I know it. You’ll be just fine. And I don’t know who this stupid arse Aiden is? But if he hurt you then he deserves everything bad to happen to him. You’re better off without him, especially now that you have us in your corner. Since you have me.” Louis had let go of Harry’s face but was still holding onto one of Harry’s hands. Harry placed his bandaged hand on top of Louis’.

 

“Thank you Louis. Thanks for everything. I’m sorry I broke down.” Harry stood up and looked around, trying to remember if he was forgetting anything before going back to his apartment. His eyes fell on the open travel guide book again.

 

“Hey, did you know that I wrote most of that?” Harry pointed towards the book with his right bandaged hand.

 

“Yeah. Niall told me that you did travel guide books and the fact that the New Zealand one was one that was recent. I’ve been trying to plan a trip to New Zealand for next Spring right before work at the hospital will get crazy, so buying your guidebook seemed like a great idea.”

 

“Louis I could’ve saved you a few pounds and given you a copy.”

 

“No. It felt special going to the bookstore and actually buying a copy, knowing that someone I knew had written it.” Louis smiled as the two of them made their way to the front door, stopping in the kitchen first to grab Harry’s dishtowel.

 

“Well thank you. My publisher appreciates the gesture I’m sure, but I didn’t write all of it; there were two other contributors too. And since you have the source for the material living next door, you know you can always ask for me to help you plan your trip.”

 

“Thanks Harry. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

 

They were now at the front door and Louis opened it. When he did they could see that the door to Harry’s flat was still wide open, an Andy Williams Christmas song blaring into the hallway.

 

“Oh my god! I can’t believe I just left my door open like this! I’m so embarrassed.” Harry hurried into his apartment and at least shut off the music. Louis had made his way inside the apartment and was looking at the small disaster in the kitchen that Harry had left.

 

“Here, let me help you clean up.” Louis went over to the stove and picked up the baking sheet that was lying on the floor; there were broken gingerbread cookies all around the floor and lying on top of the door of the oven which was still sitting flung open with the oven racks half out. Louis picked up one of the biscuits from the oven door and popped a piece into his mouth chewing thoughtfully.

 

“Mmm delicious.”

 

Harry was mortified. He couldn’t believe that he’d just up and left his flat and run next door without even closing his oven door or his front door. “God, I’m so sorry. What a mess I left. You don’t have to help me clean.”

 

“It’s no big deal. It’s a few broken cookies on the ground. And it doesn’t seem like anyone came into your apartment and stole anything, right?” Harry looked around and acknowledged with a nod that everything was still in place in his apartment.

 

“Lou? Will you do me one more favor? Will you put the last tray of gingerbread biscuits in the oven to bake? I can’t really do it with one hand I don’t think.”

 

“Yeah, ‘course. Just tell me what to do.”

 

And so Harry did just that. He instructed Louis how to roll out the remaining dough and cut the triangle tree shapes. Louis put the last two trays in the oven and they hung out and talked some more about Louis’ work until the biscuits were ready to come out to cool. Harry found the missing silicone oven mitts; hiding between the couch cushions! All in all considering all of the pain and tears a couple of hours before, Harry’s evening was ending on a smile.

 

“What are you doing for your birthday, Louis?”

 

“Rotten luck, I have to work. Well, I’ll be coming off of a 36 hour shift technically, so I’ll be out by 7pm.”

 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be exhausted, but if you want, you’re welcome to come over here and help me do that last of my Christmas baking.”

 

“Thanks Harry. That would be nice. It’ll be something for my birthday that will sorta remind me of being with my family. And it will be especially nice since Liam and Niall will have already left for Ireland that morning. I’d love to join you. ” Louis pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. “And considering that 36 hour shift starts at 7 in the morning, I should probably go back to mine and go to bed soon.”

 

“Thank you Louis. Not only for taking care of the burn on my hand, but for everything else tonight. Thanks for listening and being there for me. I know we don’t know each other well, but I feel close to you anyway. I hope that doesn’t sound weird or scary. I don’t mean to freak you out but I want to be honest.” Harry felt vulnerable and was sure that you could see his blushing from space.

 

“You don’t scare me, Styles.” Louis smiled. “I feel very close to you too. I don’t care if that’s weird. I’m glad you fell awkwardly into my life in front of our post boxes.” Louis took a step closer to Harry and stood up slightly on his toes. He brushed a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Goodnight, Harry. See you soon.”

 

Louis walked out of the door and closed it gently. Harry stood looking at the door holding his hand up to his cheek; he felt a tingle from Louis’ lips for what seemed like hours afterward.

 

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 

True to his word, Louis arrived on Harry’s doorstep Christmas Eve straight from his shift at the hospital; and looking freshly showered and comfortable in a soft looking wool jumper and slim fitting twill trousers. Louis was barefoot though, which caused Harry to bark out a laugh when he noticed, that he then tried to cover up with his hand. Jesus, this boy was burrowing his way further into Harry’s heart with each passing day. Louis looked down at his bare feet and smiled back at Harry looking up at him through his long eyelashes.

 

“I didn’t see the need to wear socks or shoes if I was just coming next door.” Louis shrugged as he made his way into Harry’s apartment and headed towards one of the stools at the kitchen island.

 

Harry closed the door and followed Louis into the kitchen. “Happy Birthday, Louis. Thanks for spending it with me.” Harry said shyly.

 

He busied himself with finding his phone and turning back on the Christmas music he’d stopped playing when Louis had rang his doorbell. Kelly Clarkson’s voice filled the room and Louis smiled.

 

“Ah yeah, I love her Christmas album.” He started moving his hips back and forth on the stool and humming along. Harry could only smile fondly. Well, more fondly than he already had been.

 

“I thought you might. I made a Christmas Eve/Birthday playlist for us to listen to as we bake biscuits. Mostly Kelly, Mariah, Kylie and some other ladies if that’s okay?” Harry winked at Louis and then quickly turned around and busied himself with plugging the electric kettle in for tea. Why did he do something so dorky like wink? He was terrible at it. He always looked super spastic. But when Harry turned back around Louis was smiling wide at him.

 

“Three of my favorites, how did you know? Besides Beyoncé. If she put out a Christmas album? I would be in lady-singer heaven!”

 

This comment made Harry beam, and he turned up the Bluetooth speakers and started to sing along with Louis to “All I Want For Christmas Is You” as it began to play. The two of them danced around the kitchen miming certain actions and dorkily pointing to each other on the “is you” parts of the song. They were giggling and out of breath by the time the song was over.

 

“That was fun, but now I’m knackered Harry. I’m running on like 6 hours of sleep over the past two nights.” Louis leaned against the kitchen island. “What are we baking tonight? We better do it quick or I’ll fall asleep into the dough.”

 

“We’re making Mazurka tonight!” Harry said with a smile and raised his arm in a flourish.

 

“Mazwhatta? Is that a food?” Louis looked incredulous.

 

“Mazurka. It’s a type of shortbread bar biscuit thing. It’s Polish. It’s traditionally always made on Christmas Eve; I don’t remember why. It’s been a tradition in my mum’s family for generations; there was some long lost Pole relative that the recipe got handed down from. Anyway, that’s not important. The important thing to know is that they’re DELICIOUS. And fun to make.”

 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Louis looked at the many varied ingredients on the counter. “They seem very complicated. I’m not a bad cook, but I like things simple, Harry.”

 

“Don’t let all of this stuff intimidate you. Mazurka is easy. I swear. Would I lie to you? On your birthday?” Harry batted his eyelashes and put on a goofy pout. Louis could only laugh.

 

“I hope you wouldn’t. Okay Styles, what’s the first step?”

 

Harry handed Louis his mother’s recipe book turned to the correct page. “Here. Look this over. I’ll start the process, with you reading the instructions, and then we’ll switch and you’ll take over.” Harry practically skipped back to the other side of the kitchen island. He was having way too much fun. Louis looked at the recipe in his hands.

 

**Polish Mazurka with Apricot Topping (traditionally made Christmas Eve)**

**Ingredients**

  * _1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter_
  * _1 1/2 cups sifted all-purpose flour_
  * _1 cup granulated sugar_
  * _1/2 teaspoon salt_
  * _6 egg yolks_
  * _1/2 cup blanched almonds, finely ground_
  * _Zest of 1 orange or lemon_
  * _Apricot Topping_


  * _1 cup apricot jam_
  * _2 tablespoons orange-flavored liqueur like Grand Marnier_



**Directions**

  1. _Heat oven to 165 C._
  2. _Cream butter until fluffy. Sift together flour, sugar, and salt and add to butter, alternating with the egg yolks. Beat until well mixed, but not over mixed If you beat the eggs too much the biscuit dough will be too dense. Carefully then stir in almonds and citrus zest._
  3. _Pat dough into two 10-inch buttered and parchment-lined cake pans._
  4. _Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until golden brown._
  5. _For the Apricot Topping: Heat jam gently. Add liqueur. Strain warm glaze through a fine sieve and spread atop cooked mazurka. Top with pistachios and dried fruit if desired._



 

 

“Is your oven on and heated to 165?”

 

“Of course it is.” Harry sounded insulted that Louis would even ask.

 

“Hey! I’m just reading the instructions here like you told me to do.” Louis countered but with a smile that Harry met with one of his own.

 

“Okay smartarse. Just tell me things like how much butter I need to be creaming, and which dry ingredients I should sift together.”

 

“Harry. “ Louis leveled him a smirking look.

 

“What?”

 

“You yourself said that you’ve made these cookies a million times before. I’m sure you know this recipe by heart at this point. You don’t need me to tell you that it’s two sticks of butter that you should be creaming. Also? Gross. The word ‘creaming’ is disgusting. Can’t they just say ‘mixed’?”

 

“Only someone with a dirty mind would think that word is gross.” Harry said this with a wicked looking smirk firmly planted on his face. He added an eyebrow wiggle, which he knew was completely dorky, but it made Louis laugh that clear, high pitched giggle that Harry absolutely adored, so he didn’t care how much of a dork he appeared.

 

“Anywaaaay, as I was saying before being called a pervert, it says to alternate the dry ingredients with the egg yolks in the mixer.” Louis hopped off of the stool and came around the island to stand next to Harry and peer inside the mixing bowl as he did these steps.

From this close Harry took a deep breath and took in Louis’ amazing smell. It was like lemon and sage, but also an underlining sweet musk that might just have been Louis’ own essence. Harry could get lost in his smell. He opened his eyes when he realized that he’d had them close for longer than he’d planned and Louis was talking to him.

 

“Uh…what?”

 

“Did I lose you there for a sec? I said that you’re supposed to be adding the almond meal and zest in now. Your mum gives specific instructions NOT to overbeat the dough which you might now in fact be doing numpty.” Louis bumped his shoulder into Harry’s and looked up and gave him a smile so sweet that Harry felt his heart stop for a moment. He sighed and grabbed the bowl with the almond flour and then gathered the citrus peel that he’d zested onto the cutting board and scraped it into the mixing bowl. He then turned off the mixer after another 30 seconds.

 

“Okay Lou you can help me with the next step, and then I’m going to have you make the jam mixture for the topping.” Louis looked at Harry like he wasn’t at all confident he could handle any such thing, but Harry just ignored the look and dimpled while he took the dough out of the bowl and divided it into two portions.

Harry handed Louis one of the dough rounds and an already prepped baking tin lined with buttered parchment paper.

 

“Here, take the dough and press it flat into the bottom of that pan. I’ll show you.” Harry took the other piece of dough and started pressing it into the baking tin in front of him, pressing lightly with the pads of his long fingers. Louis had noticed when he’d bandaged Harry’s hand the night before how large it was, but now watching his fingers press the biscuit dough into the tin, Louis was finding his large hands and the motions they were making very erotic. He felt his cock thickening and tried to covertly adjust himself before placing the ball of dough in the pan and turning around to walk to the kitchen sink. Louis mentally scolded his manhood – _do not get hard right now. This is not the time!_

Louis washed and dried his hands and returned to Harry’s side; he looked at Harry’s final product and nodded. “I think I can handle that.”

 

“I know you can.” Harry replied with encouragement.

Louis flattened the dough into the bottom of the baking pan as Harry had done, or at least some semblance to what he’d done. When he was done he looked up at Harry for his approval and was met with a wide smile from Harry that made Louis smile wide in return. Harry made him feel bright and shiny; that didn’t make sense altogether in Louis’ brain, but that was the only way he could describe it.

Harry took the baking pan from Louis and placed both pans in the oven to bake. He then motioned Louis over to the counter next to the stove. Louis stepped close to Harry’s side, their arms brushing.

 

“Louis I’ll show you how to do the jam bit.” Harry emptied a jar of apricot preserves into a small saucepan. The jar looked homemade.

 

“Don’t tell me you made your own jam too? Seriously Harry, are you a 25 year old handsome young man or a 75 year old nan?” Harry snorted out a laugh which Louis thought might be one of his new favorite sounds.

 

“No, I didn’t make the jam, but a grandmother type person at the church bazaar down the street did. It’s very tasty. I bought three jars. They were a steal at 5 pounds!” Harry smiled again and Louis tried to keep the fond look off his face by turning towards the pan and picking up the wooden spoon Harry had laid across the top.

 

“So I just heat this up with a little booze? That’s what the recipe said I think.”

 

“Yeah. Just be sure to keep the flame under the saucepan low. And after it’s cooled some you’ll strain it through a sieve to get any lumps out before we spread it on the shortbread base.”

Louis turned the flame on under the pan and started stirring slowly. He then picked up the bottle of Grand Marnier that sat on the counter next to him and looked up at Harry questioningly.

 

“How much should I put in then?”

 

“I trust you. Pour however much you want in. Just know that the more alcohol you put in the thinner the mixture will be and we don’t want a soggy biscuit.” Harry said the last two words in an exaggerated high pitched voice trying to imitate pastry chef and GBBO judge Mary Berry. Louis laughed and Harry decided that he always wanted to hear that sound.

 

“I love your laugh.” Harry blurted out. Louis looked at him in surprise.

 

“I love your laugh too. I was just thinking that a few minutes ago.” Louis couldn’t hold back the fond look that spread across his face. He was falling fast for this dimpled beauty standing next to him.

 

“Okay. I think I can handle this.” Louis picked up the bottle again and twisted off the top to smell the contents. The luscious and strong aroma of orange liqueur filled his nostrils. He poured a healthy splash into the heating jam, stirred it in for a minute, and then splashed a little more of the liqueur in before putting the cap back on and handing it to Harry. Harry nodded and went to put it away but Louis stopped him.

 

“Hey, that stuff is great in hot cocoa. Do you have any?” Louis raised his eyebrows in question and smiled.

 

“I don’t have instant packets, but I certainly have ingredients to make real hot cocoa from scratch.”

 

“Harry, you might be my favorite person. Yes, please make us hot cocoa from scratch and add some orange liqueur. Ooh and whipped cream if you have it.”

 

“I can make that too.” Harry couldn’t keep a smile off of his face as he got the ingredients out to do just that.

 

Louis stirred the jam a few more times and then turned the burner off to let it cool for a bit. Harry then showed Louis how to strain the jam mixture through the sieve so that it came out a smooth, almost creamy consistency perfect for spreading on top of the shortbread base. Louis stood very close to Harry while he was demonstrating these steps; probably closer than he needed to be, but Harry didn’t seem to mind so Louis just crowded in closer. Harry turned to his right slightly so that he was practically in Louis’ arms their chests almost touching. Louis looked up through his eyelashes, his eyes going to Harry’s insanely pretty mouth.

“Uh, I think it’s time for the shortbread to come out of the oven.” Harry practically whispered. Louis stepped back just far enough for Harry to step over the oven. But stayed close enough behind him that he could still feel Harry’s body heat. Harry took the pans of shortbread out of the oven and set them on cooling racks on the counter.

 

“Do we have to wait for the biscuit base to cool completely before putting the jam on?” Louis asked as he picked up the recipe book and looked to see if this was mentioned.

 

“We have to wait a minute or so to remove the shortbread from the parchment-lined pans but then we can spread the jam on; you want it to be a little warm still so that the jam sort of sinks in a bit.”

 

“I think these are going to be delicious. Definitely the best tasting sweet I’ve ever made, or helped make.” Louis looked away, chagrined. He couldn’t fight the smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t help it; Harry Styles just made him want to smile all the time.

 

Harry broke the silence between them. “Let me make that hot cocoa now!” He slapped his hands together and then got busy getting out a saucepan and filling it with milk, sugar, and cocoa powder. At the last minute he splashed in some of the orange liqueur. Harry directed Louis on getting a metal mixing bowl out and pouring in a little heavy cream, some vanilla extract and a little sugar. He then handed Louis the electric handmixer and told Louis to whip the cream until it was stiff peaks, but not so long that it turned into butter.

 

“That can happen? If you keep beating this it become butter?!”

 

“Uh huh. Louis how did you think butter was made in the first place?”

 

“Dunno. Guess I never thought about it. It almost makes me want to over whip it just to see what happens.”

 

“You cheeky menace. Just make the cream for our hot cocoas will ya?” Harry couldn’t be more fond of this boy if he tried.

Harry took the shortbread out of the pans and had Louis come over after he’d finished whipping the cream. They each took half of the strained jam and spread it on top of the shortbread that now rested out of the pans on the cooling rack. Louis wasn’t as neat and careful about not keeping the jam away from the edges of the biscuit and complained about how much he was messing it up, but Harry assured him with a coy smile that he liked the way Louis’ looked better anyway. Louis knew he was just being humored, but he liked the feeling of praise anyway.

The Mazurka was set aside to fully cool and set up and Harry poured their hot cocoas into large mugs and topped them with whipped cream. He and Louis moved to relax on Harry’s couch.

“Happy Birthday again, Louis. I hope you’ve had an okay time.” Harry seemed nervous that Louis was going to say that he hadn’t.

 

“Harry, I’m not lying when I say that this is one of the best birthdays I’ve had in a long time.” Louis flashed him a grin over his steaming mug of cocoa. “And this is the best cup of hot chocolate I’ve ever had. I’m never going back to the instant stuff again.”

 

“I wish I had some mini marshmallows to add, but yeah it’s good. And it was a great idea to add the orange liqueur.” Harry took another sip, closing his eyes in pleasure.

 

“Yeah, except now I feel so loose I might pass out right here on your comfy couch.” Louis set his empty mug on the coffee table next to him and scooted down on the couch a bit until he was almost fully reclined, his toes tucked under Harry’s thigh.

 

“You can go to sleep here. I don’t mind.” Harry smiled softly when he saw that Louis’ eyes were already closing. Suddenly Louis spoke in a sleep heavy voice.

 

“Sing me to sleep, Harry. Just a little song. I like listening to music as I fall asleep.”

 

“You’re the one with the nice singing voice, Louis. Sing yourself to sleep.”

 

“Harry..” Louis practically whined. “Please? I know you have a proper gorgeous voice. Who was the lad singing all of those harmonies with me earlier tonight?” Louis heard Harry sigh and knew that he’d won. He smiled with his eyes still closed.

 

“Well, what do you want me to sing? A Christmas song? Happy Birthday? A lullaby?”

 

“Mmm a lullaby would be nice I think.” Louis got even more comfortable on the couch and Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen anything or anyone as soft and beautiful. He wouldn’t mind getting to see Louis like this all the time.

 

“I don’t think I know any real lullabies. My mum used to sing like folk and pop songs to me at night when I was a kid and couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Like what?” Louis said around a yawn. Eyes still closed; his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks.

 

“Oh, um, like ‘Golden Slumbers’ by the Beatles, or ‘You Can Close Your Eyes’ by James Taylor.”

 

“Yeah? I love that James Taylor song.” Louis began singing a little of the song under his breath.

_…”So close your eyes, you can close your eyes, it’s alright…”_

 

“I’ll go put it on.” Harry stood up from the couch and walked over to bring it up on phone where it was sitting on the dining table. When he turned back around just as the song started playing, he saw that Louis had fully fallen into a deep sleep on his couch. He felt a little disappointed that the evening hadn’t ended in them making out, because there was literally nothing Harry wanted more than to kiss Louis Tomlinson and be kissed in return. Instead Harry moved back to the couch and sat on the floor near where Louis’ head rested on the throw pillow.

Harry sang along to James Taylor quietly as he brushed Louis’ hair off of his face and brushed his thumb along his cheekbones and down to his shoulder. Harry just sat for another half hour or so watching Louis sleep. He didn’t want to wake him so that he could go home, but he also felt bad leaving him on his lumpy couch; it was definitely not the best thing for one’s back.

Harry made a decision and rose to his feet. He then gently slid his strong arms under Louis’ shoulders and his thighs and lifted him off of the couch. As he headed for his bedroom Louis cuddled into, wrapping his arms around Harry and pressing his nose into his neck. Louis didn’t wake; he just unconsciously moved his body as close as he could to Harry.

Harry laid him down softly on his bed and decided that it was probably best to get Louis out of his trousers. He slowly unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down; he was almost sweating from trying to not wake Louis and also being thoroughly aroused at being this close to his package. Once he had them unzipped, Harry slowly dragged the trousers down Louis’ legs and off him. He couldn’t help himself from nosing at Louis’ cock covered by his cotton boxer briefs. Harry’s hot breath caused Louis’ thick cock to twitch slightly but Louis still didn’t wake. Harry felt like he was violating Louis and quickly moved off of him and tucked his legs under the duvet and pulled it up to his chin.

Louis turned over onto his side and burrowed further down into the feather bed that covered Harry’s mattress. He let out what might have been a sigh; Harry was so enamored that he felt almost overwhelmed.

Harry went back out to the living room and distracted himself from the beautiful man in his bed by totally cleaning up his kitchen, cutting the Mazurka into squares and putting it into the airtight containers, and doing any other unnecessary tidying up that he could to avoid having to get in bed with Louis there. It had been so long since Harry had shared a bed with someone; even before he and Aiden split they had stopped sleeping together. Harry missed sharing a bed; he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to trust himself in his sleep, that he’d wrap his arms around Louis in his sleep and hold fast.

He started to set up a bed on the couch but as soon as he lay down he felt the broken couch spring poke him right in the back near his kidney. This wouldn’t do at all. So he got up and made his way into his bedroom, stopping off in the bathroom first to brush and floss his teeth, and pull off his jeans and pants and put on a pair of flannel pj bottoms.

 

When he walked up to his bed as quietly as he could, Harry saw that Louis was now lying on his back, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Harry had to hold back a giggle. Louis looked like a little kid. He almost didn’t want to disturb him, but he was also tired and wanted to sleep. Harry lifted the duvet up on one side of the bed and got in as quietly as he could, gently pushing Louis over a few inches. Louis used that opportunity to roll over on his side and dragged most of the duvet with him. Harry sighed realizing it was a lost cause and went back out to the living room to get a fleece blanket that was on the armchair and brought that back to bed.

Once he was settled on his side Harry let out a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. Even though they weren’t touching and there was at least 10 inches of space between them, it still felt very different and very nice to feel the weight and body heat of another person in a bed with you. Harry felt sure he wouldn’t have insomnia tonight. As he began drifting off he felt Louis roll over and spoon up behind him; his arm wrapping around Harry’s hip. Harry felt his mouth turn up in a contented smile and finally let the comfort from Louis’ body cradle him to sleep.

 

||||||||||||||||||||

 

Harry woke to subdued light coming through the windows where he’d forgotten to draw the curtains the night before. He guessed from the amount of light that it was probably around 8AM or so and when he lifted his head a little to look at the clock he saw that he was correct, it was just about 20 minutes after 8. Harry felt the weight of another person shift slightly behind him and remembered that he and Louis had a shared a bed last night. Harry panicked that Louis would be angry and that he’d have to over explain and offer excuses when all he really wanted was to be honest – he liked Louis and he had slept better lying next to him than he had in months.

Harry turned over onto his back and turned his head to the left. He was met with Louis’ cool blue stare and after a moment, his bright crinkly-eyed smile.

“Good morning. Happy Christmas, Harry.”

 

“Happy Christmas, Louis.”

 

“I was quite surprised to find myself in your bed this morning…” Louis said this with raised eyebrows and Harry waited for him to be angry about it. “…but it was a pleasant surprise. It was a surprise that I might like to have happen on a regular basis.”

Harry looked up at Louis and saw nothing but sincerity on his face. His eyes then couldn’t help but fall to Louis’ lips.

 

“If I didn’t have such a terrible case of morning breath, I’d kiss you senseless Harry Styles.” Louis smiled and then ducked his head down to laugh. Harry’s own smile spread until his dimples created deep pits in his cheeks that Louis wanted to stick his finger into.

 

“I’ve smiled more being around you in these last couple of weeks, than I have for most of this year. Thank you, Louis.”

 

“Oh now, I really want to kiss you. But first I need a piss and maybe a swig of mouthwash?” Louis jumped out of the bed and only then realized that he wasn’t wearing his trousers.

 

“Why Harry, you naughty boy. You took my clothes off last night?” Louis said this on a giggle so Harry knew he wasn’t mad.

 

“It was only your trousers! I thought you’d be uncomfortable!” Harry said in his own defense.

 

Louis only rolled his eyes fondly and headed to the bathroom. When he returned a few minutes later he took a running start and jumped into bed landing in a thunk on top of Harry. Harry let out a grunt which turned into helpless giggles as Louis started to tickle him. Louis straddled Harry and dropped down on his elbows which bracketed Harry’s face. Suddenly their faces were only inches apart.

 

“Now I’m worried about my own morning breath.” Harry mumbled.

 

“Shut up. You’re perfect.” And then Louis leaned down and kissed him. It was heaven having Louis’ mouth against his own. His silky lips parted as Harry kitten licked across the seam and slid into his mouth which still had the lingering taste of mouthwash.

The weight of Louis’ body on his and heat from their kisses made Harry flush from head to toe. He had to keep his eyes closed because looking at Louis felt almost overwhelming. Harry felt Louis’ fingertips tracing over his forehead and his eyelids; brushing across his cheekbones and moving down to outline his jaw. Louis followed the line of Harry’s jaw again with his mouth this time, scattering his jawline with kisses and sucking a bruise where his neck met his shoulder. Louis pressed in impossibly closer, cupping Harry's face and kissing him soft and slow. He pulled back to catch his breath and stare at the pink beauty of Harry's lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Harry.”

 

Harry’s eyes flew open. “Me? No. What about you?” Harry moved his hands down Louis’ back to grab an arse cheek in each of his large hands. “You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen up close. I’ve dreamed about you kissing me for months.” Harry knew he should’ve been embarrassed admitting that, but he wasn’t. Louis just leaned down to kiss him deeply again, so he figured he didn’t mind either. Harry had never felt such a tender or as intimate moment as this with Louis was now.

 

"Ever since I saw you in those dumb gorilla slippers with your hair all messed up, I’ve thought of nothing and no one else.” Louis kissed Harry again; both were smiling so big that their kissing was mostly pressing their smiles together and giggling.

Louis finally rolled off of Harry a half hour later, lips bruised and chests flushed, after he complained about his bladder. When Harry had relieved himself and had also brushed his teeth for good measure, he got back in bed and Louis cuddled against him resting his head on Harry’s chest.

 

“I wish I had gotten you a Christmas present. I feel bad. You taught me how to make Polish shortbread biscuits, and hot chocolate and whipped cream from scratch, and I don’t have anything for you.” Louis looked at Harry with a slight pout on his face. Harry didn’t want to see that. Especially since it was far from the truth.

 

“Louis you already gave me my Christmas present.” Louis sat up and looked at Harry with a confused look on his face. “It’s you. You’re my present. This, this time right now with you is all I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Louis felt overcome with emotion; joy, gratitude, maybe the beginning of love. He leaned in and kissed Harry again; happy to spend Christmas day with this glorious man.

 

FIN

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a Spotify playlist that goes with this story. It will be linked as soon as the authors are revealed for the Exchange. I hope you enjoyed reading!


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